


Twilight

by DarkCorgi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Slash, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-01
Updated: 2004-07-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 21:17:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10050488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkCorgi/pseuds/DarkCorgi
Summary: Summary:  Severus' ill and thinks Harry doesn't know.  He finds out otherwise.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

Disclaimer: All Characters with, exception of Eric and Steven Dursley, belong to J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this. I'm just borrowing out of boredom.  
Note: Part of the 5th wave of the Dusk Til Dawn Harry Potter/Severus Snape Fuh-Q Fest at www.kardasi.com. The story consists of the following challenges: 1) Write a story containing 5,000 words. 2) Scenario #80 Harry and Sev have had a good life together, but now that they are getting old, Harry knows he'll have quite a few years to live without his husband. (Kira) 3) Scenario #82 Incorporate the following sentence in a story: "I don't take it up the ass, Potter," Severus snarled. (slightly altered I edited the 'Severus snarled' bit) (Kira)  
Homepage: www.livejournal.com/users/goldpemcorgi  
A/N: Archiving at www.kardasi.com for the fest and afterwards the story will be archived at www.hpfandom.net and www.thesilversnitch.com.  
Beta: I bow down before the AWESOME Katie (netgirl@popullis.net) for her hard work keeping my tenses straight and finding my lost commas.

**Twilight**

_Slowly I worked my way down his body, drinking in every whimper, moan and gasp I wrung from his very being as I worked my way downward. Every touch from my lover's hands stoked the furnace of my need and it made the blood roar in my ears. Green eyes, darkened with lust, gazed at me as I teased his heated and engorged flesh. The sounds the green-eyed man made beneath me overwhelmed me and I allowed my own need to take control. Swiftly and thoroughly he prepared his lover's entrance, stroking his pleasure spot as he did so. Satisfied with my work, I coated my own straining member, and slowly worked my way into that tight inferno. Once I was settled and calmed, I began to work my way in and out slowly, drawing out the pleasure of our encounter for as long as I could. I held his thighs in my hands as I ploughed into his willing body and thrilled as I watched myself sink into his tight hole. Despite my best efforts the need to climax took over and I dropped his legs in favour of gripping his hips. Faster and faster I moved, and he thrust back against me as enthusiastically as I did to him. He snaked his petite-looking hand down to stroke his own erection in time to our movements. A few quick squeezes and he erupted onto both of our stomachs as he shouted 'Severus' into the echoing room. His orgasm caused him to clench tightly and the force threw my rhythm off. My erratic thrusts were more than enough to bring me over the edge as I shouted his name into the darkness._

 

I'm pulled from my dreams by the increasing brightness of the sun in our room. Slowly I open my eyes and shiver from the remembered sensation of sex. Dreams are the only time I can perform the act these days. I'm paying for the follies of my youth more than ever now, and in ways I never expected. I slowly and painfully pull myself into a sitting position on the bed. On the nightstand next to my wand is a goblet filled with pink tinged water. Harry never forgets to leave a ready-made goblet of my medication before he leaves for work every morning. I quickly down the overly sweet concoction and take stock of my surroundings. Once I determine that all is well, I painstakingly make my way out of bed. My joints creak and my muscles burn as I force my way into a standing position and shuffle into the bathroom. I never expected that those years I spent spying for Albus would come at this cost. 

 

The short walk to the bathroom causes my heart to beat erratically, and I have to sit on the toilet before I can begin my morning ablutions. The years of torture by the Dark Lord's hand have left their mark on me, and nothing I've tried has been able to reverse the damage to my body. I'm dying by inches and I feel totally helpless, more than I did during Black's 'prank'. Slowly I work my way through my morning routine expending as little energy as possible. Yes, I hoard my energy and strength for the times that Harry's home. I've done my best to hide my growing frailty from my partner. He's lost so much over the years, and I don't wish to add to his burden, though I will in the end.

 

Every day it becomes harder for me to get up in the morning, and these days I can barely cast a spell. All my magic is being used to keep my body functioning, but soon enough it will die out and I'll be no more. If I'm lucky, I may see my ninetieth birthday. At least I still have my potions. If those were taken away from me, I don't know if I'd still be here at all. Potion brewing is one of the few pleasures left to me these days.

 

I slowly make my way into the kitchen, using the walls to support myself as I move through the rooms. I smile to myself when I enter the kitchen. Sitting on the table, as always, is breakfast kept warm by a heating charm. I don't know how he manages to make my breakfast every morning. He's so horribly disorganized that he flies in all directions getting himself ready in the morning, and sometimes I wonder if he's like that at Gringotts. It's such an engrained habit with him, and I believe that when I'm gone, he'll forget, and still set my breakfast on the table.

 

The goblins, centaurs and house-elves are the only beings we deal with since our relationship came to light. I don't know how Harry managed to do what no wizard had done in centuries; he befriended the goblins and won't tell how he did so. The same happened with the centaurs. The centaurs that live in the forest surrounding our home barter freshly killed meat and fish for the potions I brew; an agreeable trade for both parties. His alliance with the house-elves is a story I do know. After his second year at school all the house-elves started to cater to him, especially the oddly dressed 'employee', who arrived in Harry's fourth year. Who would have guessed that tears spilt over that same elf's broken body would bind an entire race to his side? To this day house-elves, free or bound, pop in and out doing the repairs and tasks I can't do and Harry doesn't have the time to.

 

The haunting refrains of phoenix song pulls my thoughts into the present as Fawkes lands on the table with the mail. Given the current state of things I tend to forget that Albus was the only one who supported my relationship with Harry, but he didn't live long enough after the final battle to influence the rest of the world. Minerva's violent rejection surprised me the most. I believe to this day she was trying to frighten Harry into breaking off our partnership with her actions and they backfired magnificently. Harry wasn't the eager to please child that entered Hogwarts those seven years prior, that day he proved to her he was a battle hardened man who wouldn't give in to blackmail. He chose me over the entire wizarding world including his much valued surrogate family.

 

After sharing my breakfast with the ever-loyal Fawkes, I grab the boxes of potion ingredients purchased on my behalf by Harry's employers. No one dares cheat a goblin and they're more that willing to use that leverage for Harry and I. I retreat to my stone walled lab to work on the potions the bank requested for their curse breakers. I fall into my routine easily while Fawkes perches in the corner singing; bolstering my strength as I work. While the potions simmered, I decided to visit Harry's study. It's normally not a habit, but a whim I indulge in when I need to feel Harry's chaotic presence. When I entered the room this afternoon, the atmosphere was vastly different than the normally cheery one I encounter. I can feel overtones of grief and desperation and I can't help wondering why.

 

Harry's desk is neat and organized for the first time in living memory; a sure sign that something's wrong. In the centre of his desk lies his journal, a stack of blank parchment and a medical potions text, beneath which reside a dozen medical journals, both wizarding and Muggle. My curiosity aroused, I sit at his desk and open his journal. Fawkes protests this invasion of privacy, but I ignore him. Something's bothering my lover and I'm determined to find out what it is. The beginning of the journal shows nothing out of the ordinary. I flip through the pages, skimming the entries until I find an entry from last year that leaps out at me.

 

_Feb. 16 ----  
Something's off with Severus and I can't figure out what it is. He doesn't look ill and he's working as hard as ever in his lab. I just can't put my finger on it. It could be nothing – I may just be bringing baggage from work home subconsciously. I'll have to keep my eyes open. Heaven knows that he'll never tell me if there is something wrong._

 

The rest of February and March's entries reiterate the same theme. While I read on, Fawkes flies in twice: the first time with a vial of my medicine, and the next with a plate of leftover dinner, which he heated up for me; an obvious order to eat. I continued reading as I ate and came across another entry of interest.

 

_April 25 ----  
I watched Severus for several hours after I came home from an atrocious day at work. Having to work with someone I once considered family paid a heavy toll on my mental well being today, and watching my love absorbed in his art was a balm to my fragile psyche. All was going well until I noticed what he was working on. He was working on the potion he developed that minimized the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. I'm beginning to suspect that my worries were well founded. I think I'll make some inquiries with the house-elves attached to the prison. Even dead bloody Voldemort haunts my life._

 

I obviously wasn't hiding my ailments as well as I thought, or he's become more perceptive over time. I flip through several entries and find another one of interest.

 

_May 17 ----  
House-elves are wonderful beings and amazing spies, since no one pays attention to them, nor bothers to ward things against their touch. Of course they're loyal until death to their masters, but for some reason, I always seem to be the exception. The house-elves that work at the prison have checked on the Death Eaters there and found that many of Severus' contemporaries are already dead, or suffering what I believe are the same symptoms Severus is. They've copied the files of those that died and all the medi-wizards and healers agree their deaths were cause by damage attributed to overexposure to the Cruciatus Curse. Now I know why Severus was experimenting with that potion he developed before I started Hogwarts. I think I'll do some research of my own. Certainly there should be some treatments for other injuries that could be adapted to Severus' problem? Perhaps there might be something in the Muggle medical journals that could help._

 

I shook my head in disbelief. If he had the house-elves’ help in school, Albus wouldn't have any secrets to keep. I continued reading while keeping an eye on the clock. As Harry's entries progressed through the months they became increasingly panic stricken. Phrases like, 'I don't want to lose him', and 'I'm terrified of being alone', and 'I can't live without him' were frequent themes as Harry poured his grief and frustration into the pages. How did the young man, who I've been able to read like a book for years, manage to hide his concerns and fears from me? Have I been so self-centred that I didn't notice his distress?

I turned to the last few entries from this year and once again he vents his frustration in writing. His research seemed to be at a dead end and my fingers twitch in anticipation as my eyes glance at the book and journals to my right. I promise myself a look at them when I'm done brewing those shielding potions for Gringotts. His despair is very obvious and I'm ashamed I didn't notice it during those long evenings together. Sometimes I wish he'd left me when my ability to make love to him disappeared. At least that way he wouldn't be feeling this way. I turn to the very last entry and began to read.

_May 3 ----  
I've hit yet another dead end with my research and it's been a year since I've noticed something wrong with Severus. I just don't know what to do! I can't even see my life without him and the pain is beginning to overwhelm me. He doesn't know that he's been found out and I know I won't be able to keep my knowledge from him. It'll be more obvious when I begin to stay home with him._

_I've taken a leave of absence from the bank. I told the head goblin, Griphook, that Severus was ill and I need to stay home until he's well. Unfortunately, Griphook can read me like a book and the look he gave me indicated that he knew I wouldn't be returning ever again. He's right though; even if this is probably the first time I've admitted it to myself. I can't go on alone. I love him so much; the mere thought of him no longer being beside me hurts. As it is, I'm terrified of going to work in the morning for fear of coming home and finding him dead._

_His breathing's been so laboured that I fear to sleep at night. I know he tries to put on a front for me, but it doesn't work anymore. Even as he strides through the house like he did at school, I can see the effort he's making to hide his frailty. I'd give my remaining years just to keep him with me. I certainly don't want them. What's the use of living to a hundred and fifty or two hundred years when the person who makes it worth living is no longer there to share it? I'm not Albus. I don't have a purpose to keep me going. After all once Tom was permanently gone, Albus followed shortly after._

_Tomorrow I’m going to check the wills and vaults. I want to make sure everything is ready when the time comes. I wish I could see the look on Dudley's face when his four grandchildren inherit the combined wealth of the Potters, Snapes, Blacks and Crouches. I still don't believe I wound up with the Crouch estate, then again Tom made heavy inroads on the pure-blooded lineages as he murdered indiscriminately. The Crouch family's and Potter's bloodlines intersect twice 4 generations and 8 generations back. That reason alone is why I have that family's wealth now. Four mansions, the Snape family one restored thanks to the house-elves, and four Dursley grandchildren. Too bad Duddy-kins disowned his two boys when they started to show signs of magic. Eric and Steven are the closest Severus and I will ever get to children of our own. I know Severus enjoyed having them here, though he'll never admit it, especially when Eric showed an interest and talent for Potions. It gave Severus no greater joy then to apprentice him when he completed his Hogwarts education. It's too bad we don't get to see them anymore, but with our world's prejudice against homosexuality, openly acknowledging us as family would be detrimental to their lives and careers._

_I know the Black family vaults have several cases of potions stored with in them and at least one trunk is full of poisons. I'll be taking one home with me. I won't be able to go on without him. I've always been afraid of being alone and returning to the wizarding world is not an option._

 

I set down the journal and heave myself to my feet. Unheeded tears trail down my face as I shuffle back to my laboratory to finish my work. I definitely want to go over his research when I'm done with these potions - I may see something he didn't, and since I didn't think to look for treatments from Muggle research, it would be a good idea to do so. As I chop the dragon's spleen for the first potion, I wonder which houses Eric and Steven's children were sorted into. I know they've two children each, since the Daily Prophet printed the birth announcements. Eric's boys should be in their fourth and second years, while Steven's twin boys should be in their first year. I never though I'd enjoy having children around, and Harry's right, I would never admit it to anyone. The hurt of not seeing them or their children was just as surprising. The dragon spleen is ready to be added and I turn my attention completely to my work. Three counter-clockwise stirs, then four clockwise ones, and it's time to add two intact day lilies. When that is done, I extinguish the flame and cover the cauldron to allow it to cool overnight. The second potion is much easier to deal with. Nothing needs to be added, it just requires a five-minute series of freezing charms, and then it will be ready for bottling. The task finally done, I slowly began to clean my workstation. 

 

After this unenviable task was done, I headed back in the direction of Harry's study. Part way there I stopped and changed direction. I headed into the kitchen instead and, for the first time in over a year, started dinner. Once I got the stew over the fire, I never did figure out how to use the gas ring, I returned to the study. I reached over and slid the medical potions text into the centre of the desk and opened the cover. Once I opened the tome, the spell hiding my lover's copious notes disengaged, allowing the pages to be seen. As I read through his notations and cross-referenced them in the books and journals, I lost track of the time. When I finally pulled myself from the research I felt a presence in the room. When I looked up I found Harry sitting on the other side of the desk, watching me sadly.

 

"I see you found my notes," he said quietly in a pain-filled voice, when he saw he had my attention.

 

"Yes. I found your journal also. If you had done work like this in school, you would have made Granger insane." I replied dryly.

 

"You know I didn't want to stand out. I was happy plodding along with Ron in the middle of the pack." His breath hitched when he mentioned his former best friend, and I realised that something else was causing him to hurt.

 

"What's wrong, love?"

 

"Ron passed away today. His heart finally gave up." Despite their abandonment, Harry kept close tabs on the Weasleys. I knew that Arthur had died a few years ago in a freak accident in the Muggle world, and Ron was still suffering from the injuries he received in the final battle.

 

"I'm sorry, Harry. I take it Griphook told you?"

 

"Yeah, after Bill left work for the Burrow. At least Ron got to see his grandchildren." I reached out to grasp his hands across the desk in a comforting gesture, something I found myself doing easily when he entered my life to stay. I received a small smile in return. 

 

"Do you feel like eating? I've a stew on the hearth."

 

"Feeling chipper today, I see."

 

"Fawkes helps the situation quite a bit."

 

We quietly sat down at the kitchen table, after Harry helped to haul me to my feet, and proceeded to eat, each of us lost in his own thoughts. I took stock of my damaged body and decided that it could handle the short walk to the lake tonight. I know we need to talk, and it's just as much fault as his. Wouldn't Minerva be shocked? While I'm lost in my own thoughts, Harry starts the dishes. I never thought the boy I thought of as spoiled would be so domestic. I've made a lot of poor judgement calls concerning the man that stands before me and I'm lucky that in the long run he didn't hold them against me.

 

"Care to take a walk to the lake?" I ask as he's placing the last of the dishes away.

 

"Severus, we really need to talk." His green-eyes are still laden with pain as he turns towards me with a sigh.

 

"I'd rather talk by the lake."

 

"All right, Severus. I'm done in here. Do you want me to bring some pumpkin juice?"

 

I answer with a shake of my head, and we stroll down to the small lake hidden in the trees. Harry walks at my pace, an arm around my waist as I rest one of my own across his shoulders. We make our way to our favourite spot along the banks of the lake. When we first purchased our home, we retreated here to unwind, talk, and sometimes to make love under the stars. It's been over a year since we've sat here and watched the sun set. When we arrived at our spot, I lowered myself to the ground, using a convenient tree to help, and had Harry settle between my legs so I could pull him to my chest. The position hurt terribly, my joints and muscles complained bitterly, but I ignored them in favour of basking in the warmth he emitted. For a long while, we both sat there in silence as we watched the sun's light reflect off the lake, each of us once again lost in our thoughts. I didn't want to be the one to break the silence, and I gathered my thoughts before readying myself to speak when Harry looked up at me, twisting his body uncomfortably as he did so. 

 

"I was serious, you know," he whispered.

 

"What were you serious about? You said quite a bit in your journals." He gave me a look, making it quite obvious that he knew I was avoiding the topic.

 

"I can't go on without you, and I'd do anything to keep you around for a long time, even if it means shortening my own life." 

 

"Certainly you knew you'd outlive me?" 

 

"Yes, but I was prepared for twenty or maybe thirty years, not a bloody century!" Harry's eyes filled with tears he refused to shed. "You're all I have in this world, and I'm not ready to give you up yet."

 

"Do you regret choosing me over your friends?" 

 

"No, I don't. Yeah, they cared for me, but I was never really a part of their lives, no matter how hard they tried. I always felt like an intruder in the Weasley household, despite Molly's efforts to the contrary," his eyes flashed in annoyance. 

 

"You could find someone else."

 

"Severus, I'm sixty-five years old, and there's no way I'm going to find someone else, nor do I want to. No one is going to look twice at me in our world and I'm not going to find someone in the Muggle world, especially if I disappear to a job no one can find." Harry turned to look out over the lake for a few moments, before turning back to me. "I love you and I don't regret cutting ties with everyone. I've made enough friends amongst the other magical races that I don't miss Ron and Hermione as much as I would have. I wouldn't change anything except your current health. I don't want to lose you. I don't want to live without you in my life."

 

"I know you would," I whispered into his ear. "I love you, brat."

 

Harry chuckled lightly at the use of his old pet name and for a while he was like the carefree youth he became after the Dark Lord's fall. I closed my eyes to savour the closeness and for a moment I was able to forget my frailty. Unconsciously I began to run my hands up and down his torso. They eventually made their way under his jumper, and began wringing small gasps and moans from Harry. The sounds coming from his mouth attracted my full attention, and I was determined to make up for some of the time I neglected his needs.

 

He always loved having his nipples played with, and I obliged him by paying strict attention to those sensitive nubs as I nipped the always-responsive spot behind his right ear. As I worked, he began to squirm in my embrace. Sadly, the constant pressure of his lower region against my own failed to stimulate any interest in my quiescent member. I shrugged the disappointment off quickly, and focused on Harry's pleasure. Slowly I let one of my hands drop towards his waistband. I began to nip down his neck, along his pulse line, while my wayward hand worked the belt, button, and zipper open on his trousers.

 

Slowly I drew his heated erection from the confines of his trousers and began to ease my hand over it at a snail's pace. I broke off the kisses in favour of watching my hand work him and listening to the sounds flowing from his mouth. In what seemed to be no time at all, he was urging my hand to go faster while he squirmed and whimpered for completion. I quickened my rhythm on his needy flesh as he raced towards his climax, and before long Harry was arching into my hand; spilling his seed on my hand, his stomach and jumper. His face was flushed with pleasure and he panted like a heat-frustrated hippogriff. I held him tightly through the aftershocks of his orgasm. When he had recovered, he turned to capture my mouth in a lingering kiss as he spelled away the mess with a wave of his hand.

 

"Show off." I muttered into his mouth and received a giggle in response.

 

"I'm not as bad as Albus was," he replied still giggling. "Thank you, love."

 

"You're welcome. I shouldn't have neglected you for so long. I could have…" Harry interrupted me with a finger pressed against my lips.

 

"No you couldn't have. You weren't comfortable with that. Do you remember what you told me when I first gave you indications of my feelings?"

 

"It's my body that's going, pest, not my mind." I growled, and Harry gave me a 'prove it' look. "I said, and I quote: 'I don't take it up the ass, Potter.' Now are you satisfied?" Harry's answer was a smirk. 

 

"I think it's time to go to bed before I fall asleep and pin you here." Harry set himself to rights and twisted to his feet. He then reached down to give me a hand up and we headed back to the house. 

 

We made our way as quickly as my frailty and the darkness allowed us. When we were settled in our bed, Harry drifted off to sleep and I just laid there looking at the darkness behind my lids. Darkness. DARKNESS. DARKNESS!!! I bolted upright in bed and eased myself out of it. Making a beeline to Harry's office, I flipped to the list of references he used and noted that not one of the books was based in the Dark Arts. I grabbed a quill and wrote a quick note to Harry's employer requesting the volumes I listed from my vault. I sent Fawkes off with said letter, and retreated to my lab to wait. Fawkes returned - quicker than I thought he would - with the requested texts. I thanked the phoenix, and read the note Griphook had written that stated he would be standing by to purchase any needed ingredients, and that he also wished me luck in finding the solution to our problem. Obviously, he didn't want to lose Harry's services. I quickly flipped through the books and finally found the formula I vaguely recalled. I scanned the list of ingredients and began to check to see which I needed to order.

 

Fawkes left with another missive to Griphook, and I began to prepare those ingredients I had on hand after reading through the instructions several times. I was in for a long sleepless night, and hoped my body would cooperate with me. As I diced the last root of my available stock, Fawkes reappeared with the two ingredients the goblins appropriated for my work. I began the slow process of brewing the 'Shared Life' potion that the Ministry banned a century ago due to its misuse. Unlike many of the potions I taught at Hogwarts, this one required my focused attention the entire time. There was to be no setting of timers and leaving this time. Eventually, I started to feel myself flagging, and Fawkes began to sing, supporting my failing body with the unique magic of his song. Dawn arrived as I placed the last ingredient into my cauldron, and stirred in the prescribed figure eight motion as Fawkes trilled in triumph.

 

"Have you been up all night?" Harry asked as I slumped onto a stool. 

 

I watched the potion carefully as he waited for my answer. When the potion turned the proper colour I ladled two goblets full from the cauldron and staggered towards him.

 

"This is the answer you were looking for. Do you still wish to share your life force with me?"

 

"Yes!" His eyes lit up with joy, a joy I haven't seen since the Dark Lord fell and I knew neither of us would regret this decision.

 

"Three drops of blood in each goblet will activate the potion and then we can drink. Though I suggest we return to the bedroom before we do. We'll be sleeping most of the day away."

 

We added our blood to the goblets and made our way back to the bedroom. Harry sat on the bed and saluted me before down the potion as quickly as he could. I followed suit a breath later. I could feel the potion working and nearly wept as the constant pain I had lived with slowly started to ease. The last things I saw before darkness claimed me were Harry's eyes glowing with joy, relief and love. As I surrendered to the potion's influence, my heart soared because of my love's gift.

 

** Fin**


End file.
